


before you came into my life  i missed you so bad

by withyouandmeitsdifferent



Category: Glee
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 04:03:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withyouandmeitsdifferent/pseuds/withyouandmeitsdifferent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine + Sam? That equals Blam</p>
            </blockquote>





	before you came into my life  i missed you so bad

Blaine is putting the finishing touches on his text message to Kurt as he pushes open the choir room door. He thought winning the election would distract him from the loneliness settled deep in his belly but as the hour grows later and Kurt still hasn’t texted, let alone called him, the emptiness seems more pronounced rather than lightened. If a tree falls in the woods but no one is around to hear it does it still make a sound?

Blaine sighs as he checks his phone for messages again. There are none. He is about to poke Kurt on Facebook when a movement in his peripheral vision pulls his attention.

Sprawled out across the choir room floor is Sam Evans. He is leaning over a large, freshly painted, banner. He is almost cute concentrating so intently on his project. From the corner of his mouth there is smallest flash of tongue sticking out in testament to his focus.

Blaine has to hop on one foot and swing himself around to avoid stomping on Sam and his art project. “Oh, Sam! You startled me. I didn’t realize anyone was here yet.”

Sam looks up slowly. He has a stripe of red paint smeared on his cheek. Honestly, he’s kind of adorable. Seeing Blaine, Sam smiles brightly and rises to a standing position. “Hey, just the guy I was looking for! So what do you think, Mr. President?”

He comes to stand next to Blaine and is beaming at his banner proudly. “Uh, about what, Sam?”

Sam laughs and nudges his shoulder lightly. He indicates the banner with a wave of his paint brush. “Our victory slogan!”

Oh.

The words, uneven and little bit sloppy, declare in cheerful red and blue letters:

CONGRATULATIONS BLAM! LET FREEDOM SING!

Blaine has tilt his head a bit but once he’s deciphered the banner he feels the first genuine smile he’s smiled since Kurt left and became occupied with his new life. “It’s amazing, Sam. Thanks for making it. But, hey, what’s a Blam?”

Sam is smiling too and he reaches over to squeeze Blaine’s shoulder. Blaine is almost embarrassed by how happy the simple gesture makes him feel, he leans greedily into Sam’s easy touch and surprisingly Sam doesn’t withdraw his hand or shy away. In fact, he leans a bit closer to Blaine, nudges his ribs with an elbow and winks, actually winks, at Blaine.

Blaine would be lying if he said he was unaffected by Sam’s charm. Feeling a blush creeping onto his cheeks, Blaine lowers his gaze to the poster. Sam catches his eye though and draws Blaine’s attention back up.

"Blam!" Sam enthuses. "Blaine + Sam? We’re Blam, pretty awesome right?"

Blaine is speechless. For the first time in a long time, long before Kurt left even, Blaine feels accepted. Feels like maybe he belongs here and maybe even has friends here and maybe he is even wanted, maybe he matters. More than that he thinks maybe he can even make a difference and help someone too.

Sam is steady and patient at Blaine’s side, a companion. Blaine is so grateful suddenly and finds himself clasping Sam’s hand between both his. “I love it, Sam, thank you.”

The answering smile Sam rewards Blaine with is enough to make Blaine feel just a bit less lonely, a bit less lost. With Sam offering his company and bright smile and easy touch maybe this year won’t be all bad, Blaine thinks, maybe he and Sam might even become the best of friends.

"Blam," Blaine says testing the weight of it against his lips. It rolls easily off of his tongue, and as he says it, it feels almost like a promise. "Blam."


End file.
